A few hours later, the Uruk had the camp packed up and ready to move. He untied Esterasúle's feet, keeping her hands bound. A rope trailed from his hands to her bound wrists in form of a leash. "You will walk," he informed her as he stood her up.
She stood firm, not making any move to do as he wished. He pulled on the rope in his hand roughly. She was jerked toward him but did not move her feet to catch herself, letting herself fall before obeying his word. If he wanted her to move so badly, he could move her himself. She was not going to make this easy on him, quite the opposite.
He let her fall on her face, hoping doing so would teach her a lesson for her insolence. He watched as she lay there making no move to stand. She was being overly difficult in hopes he would be angered into doing something he would not. She was being delivered to his master alive and whole. When she made no move to attempt to get up after several moments -- and she had no intention of doing so, planning to lay there until the end of time if she had to -- he reached down and hauled her up by her neck, treating her like some disobedient pet or better yet vermin.
Once he had her back on her feet he shoved her forward again but did not allow her to fall as he had before. The entire time they traveled, she kept her feet dug in. She made every bit of progress a hard earned battle, but he did not give in and carry her. He was tired of carting her around even if the burden was little for him, and he dare not let the others to it. They would go to far, their self-control little to none. He would see to her walking if it took them a year to make it back to his master.
Finally, he had enough for one day and called a halt to their progression. He tossed her down near the fire the others built, roughly, before heating some stew. The same stew he had tried to feed her hours before the day's trek began. As it heated, he unbound her wrists, knowing that she could not easily escape from his side let alone passed all the Orcs.
She reached up with her now free hands and removed the gag he had placed in her mouth nearly a full day before. She then took the stew he offered, appearing all the world to be getting ready to eat by going so far as to lift it to her lips. In this way, he put his guard down, thinking she had finally succumbed to hunger. However, just before the vile concoction violated her mouth, she threw the bowl and all at his head.
The action finally made him lose what patience he had left for her. He could no longer hold in his anger, slapping her across the face, hard. "Fine. I'll remember not to feed you tonight."
She licked the blood from her busted lip with a look akin to satisfaction. "Good."
He grunted and finished his meal then stood. He pulled one of the Orc to the side and gave him instructions. He then returned to the fire as the Orcs ate then packed up and left. he would deal with the Elf bitch on his own. Besides, her words were nagging at him. He could not trust them. Granted, they would likely kill one another for the supremacy he had bestowed to the one, but that chaos was better off ahead of him. Now that he had an Elf, he did not need them.
"Don't want them to see me get the best of you?" She asked as the Orc began to leave. "Show them how it's done?" Her voice was smug, if not slightly condescending.
She was right, partly. He had no intention of losing control to one of the others, which he could not if they were not there. He also had no intention of dying to protect her. Some of the Orc had been throwing more heated gazes toward her.
Esterasúle watched the Orc leave, unhappy they were. She was losing a means to a quick death. "A weak leader sends his men away because he distrusts them," she commented casually. "You keep proving just how weak you are."
He did not look at her." "You are angry no one will be able to kill you now." He knew her game.
She gave him a sly smirk. "Not everyone is gone. You are not strong enough to control yourself forever."
"No," he agreed, to her surprise. "Just long enough to see you to the master."
"Again with the master." She rolled her eyes. Why were they all the same? Master this. Master that. Could they not think for themselves! "Why do you bow before him?"
He thought a moment. "That is none of your concern." Truth was, he had no answer. He did so because he knew nothing else. Was that reason enough? Could he say it was because he did not want to die, and to not bow would be certain death?
"If we are to travel together," if you would really call it traveling together, "we can at least make an attempt to do so in a less primitive fashion. I simply wished to make small talk." She looked at him curiously. "You can make conversation, I presume. You seem smarter than any Orc I've encountered before. Not that that is saying much."
"Why can you not return to your silence?" He growled. She was beginning to annoy him. Perhaps he should have just left her alone and carted her to his master after all.
"I do not wish to. I make my own mind." Talking obviously pissed him off, or at least annoyed him greatly. If she did enough of it, he could lose control as he had when he struck her.
"Maybe if I took you myself, you would be quiet." He had no intentions of doing so, but thought the threat may work to at least quiet her, if only for a short while.
"I highly doubt it. One has no control over the other in any way." He could take her and in so doing ruin her, sentence her to the death that was already coming. Him doing so, however, would not save his ears. She would continue to annoy him in hopes of making that death come faster.
"At least your screams would sound better than you babbling." Anything would be better than that.
"I would not scream," she retorted matter-of-factly. "I doubt you are capable of making me do so." She was egging him on. She did not want the death of being raped, but anything was better than giving him and his master what they wanted. Especially after the death of her sister.
He decided to play her game, see if he could upset her. "You would moan? Like a common whore?"
"I would make no sound. You would have no affect on me ill or otherwise. If you're even male enough to have your way with anything." The last was snide, bitey.
"So, you would be silent then." He mused. He had gotten what he wanted.
She answered with the first thing she thought of, realizing she had just been circled by her own words, she fought for something to get herself out of the mess if possible. She needed to get him off the subject of rape and mad enough to kill her outright. "If I found no cause to say anything. Then again, I could always critique." Yeah, that was the dumbest thing she could have said. He snorted in answer. "You think I would not?" Her voice was defiant. Why did she keep digging herself in? Was her need for death that great?
"You would tell me how to rape you properly?" He had to force himself not to grin at the thought. She was like no Elf he ever heard tell of. She had guts, no sense, but guts.
"If I must." She was hating him playing her game and beating her.
The conversation having gone too far in the direction it was headed, he changed tactics to try and shut her up. "As good as it would feel having you helpless under me, feeling you hot and tight around me, I think I'll pass." Though, the more she talked and baited, the harder it was for him to stick to his word, his resolve.
"Your loss, Tutas," she said boldly. Most Elves dared not speak the black speech, let alone so casually as she did.
"I am no coward." He eyed her. He was beginning to think she was faulty, insane.
"Nar?" If she could not bait him in the common tongue with satisfying results, she would try in his own.
"You are a foolish child."
"I am no child." She could have smacked herself for saying that. And why did she not protest she was not a fool?
"How old then?" He knew she could not have been that old.
"I see that as none of your concern." She kicked herself mentally. She was coming up with the best answers, proving to him on some level that she was a child.
"You are but a child then." His voice and face were smug.
"I am a century." Though, in truth, she lacked a couple years. "Older than you, I wager."
"In years you may be, but in maturity I out age you."
"You wish, Nar Thos." Again she baited him, hiding a small smirk. She was finding herself liking their banter. At least it gave her something to do.
He looked at her a moment then grabbed her hand, placing it on his genitals. "As you can feel, that little name holds no meaning for me." He then let go of her hand.
She stuck her nose in the air, pulling her hand back. "Then it must be dysfunctional or your threats would not be empty." She called him on the fact he was not going to actually rape her.
"I think you want me to take you. I bet you've never had a male before and want to know what it's like." He did not expect the answer he received.
"Well, I am to die. Should I die not knowing it?" Her eyes locked on to his one.
"If that is you last wish." He moved toward her. He was going to see just how far she would let this game go.
Esterasúle made no move to get away from him as he crouched before her, pushing her back on the ground. He ran his hands over the front of her before massaging her breasts through her tunic. She could not help as her breath picked up. She was uncertain what to do. He smirked down at her before sliding his hand under her shirt to feel her bare skin, going to his knees. He placed on between her legs, pressing it up against her. She gasped softly and cursed herself for making a noise as she searched for something to say. Her mind raced for anything, hoping for something scathing.
"Where's my critique?" He asked as he massaged her nipples a bit harder.
She had forgotten she had said she would do so, saying whatever came to mind. "You move awful slow for this being about your pleasure and not mine. I imagine a rape to be much more violent." Like he's raping you, she told herself. She also wondered why in the Valar she was not fighting him off. She really did not want to die by violation, then again, as she had pointed out to herself, he was not really violating her.
He reached for the knife at the fire side and ran it up her tunic, cutting the material open. Then, putting the knife to the side, he pulled the fabric apart to expose her chest. He leaned in to lick at her nipple as she said, "A knife?" She gasped as his tongue met her breast but did not lose herself to the game. "No ripping?" Her voice was a bit breathless. He made no response as he moved his hand to her other breast, thumbing the nipple as he sucked the one he was licking into his mouth. "You are too gentle." Her voice gave away that she was not complaining, quite the opposite to a degree.
He began to move his knee against the growing heat between her legs, switching his mouth to her other nipple. She gasped again, breath picking up to almost a pant. Her mind reeled at how gentle he was. Orcs, Uruks were not suppose to be capable of gentleness in any fashion. The took what they wanted and to hell with everyone else. His actions confused her.
Finally, he decided he had gotten what he wanted, or what he had set out to do. He stopped his actions and stood, going back to sitting where he had before. He silently got himself another bowl of stew. She sat up, not bothering to attempt to close her sliced shirt. Her mind was lost in thought. "Silence finally," he snorted. But the silence left him to thought, and his thoughts trailed to her body, how her flesh had tasted on his tongue, felt under his hands, the heat against his leg. He had great difficulty in controlling himself from finishing what he had begun.
For a long time she said nothing, nearly two hours passing before she finally looks at him. "I do not understand." Her voice was honest, having lost the edge of the game. He looked back at her silently, not certain what she meant and also not wanting to get her started again. "I mean, even in trying to fool me you should not have been gentle. You're, well, evil to be simple. It goes against everything I was every taught." Her eyes strayed to the distance. After a moment she snorted and shook her head. "Figures those dull, simple fools would be wrong. Tell me," she looked back at him, "what will happen once your master has me?"
"You will be used to advance my race." He was uncertain how to take this... melancholy version of her.
She nodded. "Oddly, I feel like that would give me purpose. Elves have no purpose but to exist. We seclude ourselves from others for the most part and never change. The life of an Elf is boring and pointless." She sighed and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. Perhaps it was the mortal influence in her that made her feel that way. She spoke her thoughts. "Perhaps I should have chose mortality but I could not leave my father or my sister." He sat silently, listening. His mind again traveling to how he had shut her up the first time. Again he had to fight from losing his control and taking her. She went on oblivious to how he was feeling. "You don't know family, do you? Never had that small amount of joy. Do you even feel you and other such emotions?" Her voice was not as it had been before. She sounded genuinely interested, almost sad for him if he did not.
He growled. The topic had just went somewhere he was not about to go. "Must you speak? I was enjoying the silence."
"Sorry." She quieted, looking off into the distance.
He got up and made her a bowl of stew. He could not help but miss the way she had been earlier, the fiery Elf bitch. Now, she was almost broken. He had not done it by raping her, ruining her, but by being gentle. The whole thing was a puzzle to him. He handed her the stew. "Eat." She took it and slowly did so, to his amazement. He was happy to have the obedience, it would make travel easier, but still... Something just felt wrong. He watched as she finished her stew then curled into a ball on the ground. She was going to sleep for the first time since he had taken her.
He silently watched as she had nightmares, happy for the peace. In her mind, she saw Mirima being shot down. He listened as she spoke softly in Sindarin, small pieces of something she must have been saying in her dreams. Her words were a prayer for the departed, asking Mandos take good care of her sister. After allowing her a few hours of sleep, he woke her. "We must head out."
Silently she nodded and stood. She felt cold as she did and shivered, frowning. Climate should not have affected her. She looked to the sky and her surroundings for anything that could have caused the cold. She wrapped her arms around herself. The cause was nothing that could be seen. She was fading. They walked in silence for a while before she commented, "Going to snow early this year. The fall winds blow. The season will pass quickly."
He looked over at her. He had noticed her acting as though she was cold. He took his water skin and mixed some herbs into it. "Drink this." He handed it over to her. The mixture was meant to warm her.
Esterasúle eyed the waterskin then drank from it. Her face screwed up. "Don't you have taste buds?"
"The taste does not matter as long as it gives sustenance."
"You are correct," she agreed. Between the vile stew and the putrid mixture, however, she was not convinced that he did have taste buds.
"You are warmer now." He looked her over. The mixture should have started working the moment she swallowed it.
She shook her head. "Not really." She did feel her outer portions growing warmer but the deep cold could not be treated, not by herbs alone. "I fear this cold is not from the climate."
"You do not mean?" He looked her over once more. He had noticed a change in her but had hoped it was not that.
She nodded. "What difference does it make? I am not fading fast enough for me to be gone before we reach your master."
"I am to bring a healthy Elf." He continued to look her over as if he could find some key to fixing this problem.
"There is nothing you can do."
"You are useless then," he growled. She said nothing, walking on. He reached out and stopped her "There is nothing?" He looked her in the eyes. If there was something, he had to do it.
"I've lost my life, my sister is dead... What could there be? I have nothing. No reason to live." Her voice was soft.
"You are of no use to me or my master and will simply slow me down." He walked away from her, in a different direction than the one they had be going or had came from.
She watched him, not following. "I've never been of use to anyone." She sighed and sad down with a plop. All her life had ever been was cooking, cleaning, and learning. She took care of her father and sister in place of her mother. In ways, she looked at Mirima as a daughter as much as sister and her father as a sort of brother. She looked around herself noticing how silent the woods were because of the Uruk's presence.
He stopped as her words reached him. He turned to her and lifted her from the ground, not certain why exactly. Something compelled him to do this one thing for her. He started walking back toward Imladris.
She eyed him in shock. "What are you doing?" He walked on silently, not answering. "What is your name?" Her voice was soft. He just kept amazing her.
"Bubhoshbujar."
She thought that over. "I like Turroquen. It means 'master knight'."
"It makes little difference." He was dead no matter what he was called.
"Why are you doing this?" She could not fathom a reason for an Uruk to help and Elf, especially after she was such a pain in the ass.
"It does not matter." He kept walking forward, not looking down at her.
"You would give your life for mine?" She looked up at him, dropping her legs to the ground and stopping his progression.
"The moment you began to fade, my life was forfeit," he answered simply.
"You do not have to die." She did not want him to, not after seeing the gentleness within him.
"There si no room for failure and it is not rewarded. If I were to bring you back ill there would be consequences." He kept walking, pushing her along with him.
She again stopped him, putting a hand to his cheek. "You aren't like them. They would have let me to die, not forced me home. They would have found a replacement. The light of the Valar has touched you." Her eyes were sad. "It saddens me to think you would die because of me."
"Do not be childish. They will have to find me before they kill me. I have no intention of offering myself as a sacrifice."
"But they will and you will die. I'm dead no matter what. I could help you get farther west where they do not have a firm hold." She did not want him to die. She also felt the need, the desire to stay with him.
"No." He pushed her again.
"Why not?"
"It does not matter."
"Yes it does!" How could he say life, his or anyone's, did not matter?
"You will move." He was going to get her home.
She sighed and began doing so. Another piece of her began to grieve. "You make my death come faster." Her voice was very soft, more to herself than to him.
"Would it help if I were cruel?" She seemed fixated on him being gentle and that meaning so much.
"It is too late for that." Her arms were wrapped tight about herself. She had seen the light in him. She had seen too deeply for him to start being mean and it work to make her hate him, not care that he was to die.
He stopped her. "Since we are both dead." He bent down and kissed her, a true kiss. She gasped not aware that an Uruk would know how to kiss. She did not fight him off but her eyes were wide, body stiffening at first before relaxing.
Bubhoshbujar deepened the kiss, hands running over her already exposed torso. She whimpered softly, moving closer to him. He pushed the fabric from her body, feasting his eyes on her. She put her hands to his chest as she pulled back for air. He moved his kisses from her lips to her jaw then around to her ear, sucking on it lightly. Her breath came quicker as she put her body against his. Her hands moved to his shoulders, holding on for support.
He pulled her to the ground, moving his lips lower on her body. Tasting her flesh, the flavor driving him wild. She moaned softly, hands staying on his shoulders, sliding down his arms. He finally got to her pants, undoing the lacings before pulling them down over her hips. She watched him, eyes heated with lust. He looked back. "No critique?" He asked as he licked at her naval.
She shook her head. "Don't have anything to compare it to." She moaned and shivered at his touches.
"You seemed very vocal earlier." He began to stroke at her with his fingers, grazing her bundle of nerves.
"Then it was a game." She forced out through the moans and pleasure building in her. He kissed her as he slipped first one then two fingers inside of her tight entrance. She arched off the ground as his thumb rubbed her nub. He stretched her, making her gasp and moan. She moved against her fingers as they probed her, mewling beneath him.
After several moments of stretching her, he removed his own minimal clothing and spread her legs wider, preparing to enter her. She watches, eyes lidded, panting. "Are you ready?" He had stretched her as far as he could. She licked her lips, mouth gone dry by the sight of him. She nodded. He kissed her, probing her mouth with his tongue as he entered her quickly, with one full thrust.
Esterasúle cried out into his mouth as he filled her painfully. He held himself still, waiting on her to accommodate his size as best she could. He was much larger than any Elf, and her virgin body was not made to easily take him in. She laid beneath him a moment or two then began to move, wanting the pleasure to return and take away the pain. He began to move in time with her, letting her set the pace. He groaned as his pleasure built, her small soft grunts driving him as wild as her taste had.
However, he stilled again, looking at her a moment. "Are you alright?" Afraid that his size was just too much for her. She nodded, fingers dancing over his skin. He began to move again, slowly at first then picking up pace. He reached between them, stroking at her nub to set her nerves on fire and build her pleasure. She began to moan. Her pleasure over riding any discomfort she was having. Her moans and grunts grew. She bit into her lip as she felt herself grow close to what she could only assume was her climax.
He licked at her lips, her chin before moving to her sensitive ear, sucking on the lobe then up to the tip. The sensations were just too much for Esterasúle. She clinched around him tightly, crying out softly. Her already tight, hot walls squeezing him like a vise sent him over the edge as well. His hot seed shooting inside of her.
She panted and looked at him, refraining from hissing as he withdrew from her. Her face twisted slightly, however. He watched her silently, sitting next to her. She laid there for a time before dozing off, moving toward him in her sleep. He found himself stroking her hair absently and wondering what was going on. He felt this need to preserve her life. He just did not know of any way to do it. Little did he know, he already had.